Crystal Falls
by Codename Deus
Summary: Clear Raven is a female Pikachu who once lost everything she had and clawed her way back. Now, she is the lead vocalist for acclaimed trance metal band StarScape. After finishing a successful gig in Castelia City, they embark on their next big concert. Cue a tour bus crash, a trek through a forest and into a town not nearly as innocent as it seems.


**Crystal Falls**

(Here is an advanced warning to all readers that there will be occasional scenes featuring intense violence, some sexual, blood and gore as well as horror, and to expect frequent use of bad language including the f word and infrequent use of the c word. If none of these issues concern you in any way, read on and enjoy -Codename Deus-)

**In a Dark Place**

Her eyes slowly and groggily began to open. Blinking frequently to rid herself of the heavy blur in her vision, she tried to move her paws to rub them. Shaking her arms violently back and forth, they felt locked in place with no opportunities to move them at all.

She, the female Pikachu named Clear Raven, fluttered her eyes open wide and cried out in horror.

There she was, sitting in a solid chair, her arms bound by the wrists in locks on the arms of the chair. Beads of sweat fell upon her favourite shirt she always wore, it being black and emblazoned with a colourful piece of Job for a Cowboy artwork. They have always been her favourite band.

It felt like a furnace in the room, so hot without any obvious outlets for air. No portholes, no windows. Nothing. No wonder she was sweating all over.

Desperately she tried to free herself of her shackles but all it did was rock the chair mildly from side to side. It scraped against the hard tiled floor but nothing more, probably cracked the surface though.

Clear gasped and panicked desperately. Her breaths were frequent and hoarse.

"What the fuck have I done to deserve this?" She muttered to herself and almost gagged at the musty smell of her surroundings. Deflated, it raised her curiosity enough to scan the room with her ocean marine blue eyes. What she saw only heightened her sense of fear.

Above, a set of tubular lights were suspended from the ceiling. They flickered continuously, causing the entire room to flash and flicker in and out of sight all around.

Whenever visibility was available, she first looked down at the dirty white tiled floor. It was barely white at all. Instead, Clear assumed that it was heavily smeared in dried blood all over. This was given the blackened red colour of the stains that led up most of every wall in the room as well.

Whatever happened here before must have been not just killing, but outright slaughter. The bloodied walls too were composed of formerly white, smaller tiles.  
However before the well pierced, mohawk styled Pikachu could assume it would not seem anymore bleak than it already was, her eyes clapped to a table in one corner of the room. On it was a plain looking handgun and an assortment of neatly laid out, bloodstained blades and blunt instruments. Like a sadist's candyshop, Clear noted a scalpel, tweazers, scissors, a nail encrusted baseball bat, a machete and even a chainsaw among others. On the wall above was an assortment of hammers and a hacksaw.

She knew now that she was in great danger and coupled with the putrid smell of the place, proceeded to vomit. As her own sick spattered her shirt and coated it with another unwelcome smell, the only door in and out of the room suddenly swung open with a painful squawk. As it did a buzzer sounded and a hue of light from the darkened corridor outside flickered once from green to red.

Clear could make out a silhouette plunder through the doorway before closing the door behind them. The door moaned painfully again in doing so and the female Pikachu heard a deep male voice emanate from the silhouette.

"They sure don't like to replace the lighting around here."

Clear twitched and spasmed out of terror. She could tell the end was nigh for her.  
The silhouette waltzed into the corner of the room, flicking something on the wall. The ceiling lights illuminated the room brightly for a moment, no longer flickering.  
Briefly, she saw the back of a red robed Weavile, his robes displaying a black, inverted pentagram on the back. She was not able to get a look at his face though before the lights above shut off two by two, plunging the whole room into pitch black. To Clear it felt psychologically suffocating. She noticed the Weavile finally turned around, told by his red, eerily glowing eyes. They caused her to squint and look away as if they were blinding warning beacons.

They illuminated the room barely in the same colour, but not enough for Clear to see anything meaningful.

"I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, dear." The deep voice of the Weavile resonated again as he struck a match. This briefly illuminated his frontal body covered by his robes, as well as his much scarred face. Momentarily he waved it in front of the fearful Pikachu who gasped panicked breaths.

"Why is this happening to me?" She asked quietly and timidly. The Weavile ignored her and began lighting a set of candles on one side of the room. It almost gave the room an eerie sense of calm and beauty. However, Clear did notice the inverted pentagram on the rear of his robes glowing white, further helping to illuminate the surroundings.

"Why am I here?" She asked up again, only to be hushed by the claw of the Weavile pressing against her lips. It felt cold against her while he stood nearby, but his eerie, glowing stare was colder still. He said nothing though and moved away to illuminate candles on the wall to her right. He was humming some nonsense to himself, but even those sounds terrified Clear.

"Why the fuck am I here?" She repeated. Her breaths were louder and fearful more than ever. The Weavile lit the last candle and then waltzed over to Clear. Standing oh so closely in front of her, he stroked her mohawk atop her head with the claws of one paw and covered her mouth with the other. His sickening warmth caused her to try and cry out but any attempts were muffled and silenced.

"Shh. It's OK. Be calm, sweety." He muttered before moving away from her and lit another match.

Clear's eyes filled with tears and she began to gag again. Heaving, her mouth let out another flow of putrid sick down her shirt with some spattering the floor.

She coughed and choked as the Weavile lit the candles on the wall in front of her. This gave off the same strange combination of tranquil calm and beauty through the darkness. It had however illuminated the room in the softest hues only candles could bring.

Once done, the Weavile's plodding footsteps drew near to her once again. Instead of a match however, he now had a scalpel. Now near enough and not for the first time, he stood intimately close to her once again and seemed to ignore the sick she spilled on her shirt.

His scent disgusted her, but she said nothing.  
He held the scalpel to her throat and glared at her. Any sense of calm he held snuffed out before the candles did.

"You want to know why, dear? They say because you're a stupid little cunt who never keeps her fucking mouth shut."

His words got to Clear. Tears leaked down her cheeks and her eyes squinted again.  
The Weavile rolled his eyes and sighed, before slicing open one of her arms with the scalpel. Her blood oozed out in droves and Clear heard numerous drops of it hitting the floor. Her cries and screams of pain were obvious from the outset and her violent shaking knocked the Weavile to the floor. His bloodstained scalpel skidded away from him and he growled aloud.

Clear whimpered and used the momentary light from the Weavile's illuminated pentagram to check the condition of her arm. The arm of the chair and her arm itself were drenched in blood, noting a grisly flap of skin dangling off its edge. The sight and pain nearly made her faint.

She heard flinching and shuffling before something hard slid off of the nearby table. The candles were not enough to give her satisfactory visibility and all she saw after that was a pair of glaring red glowing eyes rising from immediately in front of her. Then, she felt his claws fondling between her legs which caused her to gag again.

"Get the fuck off of me! Why the fuck are you doing this to me?" She pleaded desperately with tears streaming down her face. The Weavile pushed a claw to her mouth and hushed her completely while continuing to fondle her private area with his other clawed paw.

Repulsed beyond belief, Clear felt something press against her cranium.

"Don't cry, Clear Raven...it's a waste of good suffering." He taunted menacingly while revealing his knowledge of her name.

"How the fuck do you know my name? Why the fuck are you doing this? Stop fucking touching me!" Clear remonstrated in horror. The Weavile smirked, holding the loaded handgun to her head. She whimpered significantly in terror as expected.  
She felt one of his claws digging inside her private area by now and she felt disgusted.

"Get the fuck off of me! Get the fuck...!" She remonstrated bravely but was cut off. The Weavile's claw pressed against her mouth and hushed her with immediate effect. The Weavile uttered only one thing.  
"Shh..."

Clear thrashed in fear as the Weavile continued to hold the handgun to her head. His attempts at inducing mocking calmness failed miserably.

"You can't always go through life getting what you want, sweety. Sometimes you have to step back and get what you're given."

Once again his voice was calm. Digging his claws in between her legs, the female Pikachu could only hope he was not drawing blood.

However a moment later he withdrew his claws and took away the handgun. He waddled over to the table of tools again and placed the gun back onto it, muttering:  
"It's time to have some real fun now, dear."

Clear could barely see a thing in addition to the candles limiting visibility, her eyes were swollen with tears and somewhat bloodshot. She heard the Weavile picking something more cumbersome up off of the table.

Then...a dreaded moment of silence.

Then...a distinctive roar of a motor that horrified the female Pikachu to the point of straining her vocal chords.

Another stream of her vomit splashed onto her favourite shirt from her mouth as tears streamed down her face.

"Please you don't...you don't have to fucking do this, dude. Please fucking no!" She pleaded in gouts of sobbing. She could not see it but she knew the distinctive roar. The chainsaw! She knew how much its gnarly spinning teeth could cause and she knew she could resemble a slab of meat in a butcher's shop in next to no time at all.

The Weavile, glowing eyes and all, began approaching. Clear whimpered and sobbed uncontrollably.

"Come on, dude you...you don't have to fucking do this..." She repeated herself and thrashed again in desperation.

"Oh but I do, Clear. I want some fun and feeding a family with you would help sustain our future." The Weavile retorted calmly. The reference to cannibalism horrified her deeply.

"Fuck you, dude! Fuck off you sick motherfucker! You fucking cunt!" She defiantly expressed her disgust. The Weavile only chuckled and stood in front of her, chainsaw aloft. Despite her momentary defiance, she expressed nothing but terror.

For good reason to as the rotating blade was brought down right between her legs. Only centimetres from making contact with her private area, she screamed as tears ran down her face. Her vision was heavily blurred as a result, but just about made out the Weavile licking his lips as if he was deriving pleasure from it. Clear squirmed as she tried to keep away from the nearing chainsaw as best as she possibly could.

"Stop fidgeting. You're spoiling the enjoyment!" Barked the Weavile in sadistic frustration. The female Pikachu ignored him and continued her uncomfortable squirming.

Momentarily he pulled the chainsaw away and slapped her across the face with his paw. Her head rebounded to the side briefly from the force before looking ahead at him again. She saw him licking one of her tears from his claw, appearing to relish her horror. Just as he did however all the candles were snuffed out simultaneously. The room had what could only be described as a chilling wind pass through it, plunging it once again into the blackest darkness. The Weavile's glowing red eyes glared right into her own for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, the ceiling lights flickered on by themselves, two by two. Clear flinched and squinted due to the sudden light.

The robed Weavile stood before her, his morbid smile still intact. The chainsaw still revved and spun while held in his clawed paws. Behind him the room was still coated almost entirely in dried blood, leaving its formerly white surface anything but.

To her left, she stared down at her arm again. The flap of skin still dangled off of it gruesomely while her arm was soaked in blood. More was pooled on the arm of the chair and a further small pool congregated on the floor. Her shirt was drenched in sick and she almost felt like adding to it. She tried to look at anything but the Weavile and her inevitable fate. She knew the instant the chainsaw touched her she would be splattered all over the room, like mincemeat in a blender gone haywire. She could not get rid of the chainsaw's grunts however and as she looked forth again, the Weavile silently pressed a claw to his lips.

Clear's tears soaked her cheeks over and over again. Finally, deeply shaken, she spoke up again.

"Please...Please don't do this to me. I won't t-tell a...a fucking soul."

The Weavile stopped in his tracks and paused momentarily. As if pondering, he then temporarily blinded Clear with his still glowing eyes. The female Pikachu squinted and flinched, whimpering still for mercy.

The ceiling lights then began flashing intensely on and off just as she recovered. The Weavile stood back smirking. Then, he advanced while revving the chainsaw again. Clear was sobbing uncontrollably as he neared. Then, he thrust the chainsaw forth again. Between her legs a second time, it became perilously close to her private area.

She already began screaming when she felt the chainsaw's teeth impact. Blood began to flow all over the chair between her legs as she thrashed and spasmed. Violently coughing and spluttering, her head banged against the chair's headrest repeatedly. The chainsaw's grunts heightened in pitch as it ripped open skin, fur and flesh. The Weavile was going for precision and cut around a particular area. While it drew more and more blood, he finally finished the cutting after four harrowing minutes. He grasped her crotch violently with one paw and began pulling. Furthering Clear's pain and spilling even more blood, gouts of stringy flesh stretched and squelched around her genitals he had sliced around. They stretched as he removed them, with the stringy flesh tearing away from her body one by one like moist stitches.

The amount of pain reached fever pitch with Clear's tearful screaming. The ceiling lights still flashed on and off intensely which further disorientated her bloodshot eyes and mind. Her eyes could barely fight through the sheer contrasts forced by all the flashing and almost had to rely on sound and touch alone.

Looking down again though, her eyes widened. The Weavile's paw gave one last pull and with a moist squelch, completely tore her genitals from her lower body. Blood continued to flow literally down the crimson 'river' on the chair and into the vast red 'lake' upon the floor. Jagged flesh hung from the fleshy hole that remained between her legs. Clear felt like fainting on the spot although the sheer loss of blood may determine that anyway.

Wearily, she looked forth at the Weavile. While the strobe light like flashing continued to affect her vision, she barely made out what he did next.

Taunting her again while the chainsaw was clutched by one paw, his other held her bloodied severed genitals aloft proudly. Like a sickening trophy, he then held its blood dripping form next to his face. Then, he slipped his tongue through its slit, causing flecks of blood to hit the female Pikachu's face. Repulsed beyond belief, she did not even have the strength to vomit anymore. She closed her eyes. She had seen enough.

About a minute later, she opened them again. She hoped that the Weavile would stop with his sexual sadism and end her suffering. She was now accepting of her inevitable death.

"Why...why don't you fucking...kill me already?" She warbled weakly in the direction of where she perceived him to be. Typically the Weavile merely chuckled and mocked.

"What's the matter, sweety? Cat got your cunt?" He chuckled again, referring to his species' feline like traits. Clear looked away again, sickened by his jibes. Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot from all her sobbing. Her face and cheeks glistened with all the tears she cried. Her chin was stained with puke. Her shirt was covered in it. Her arm still bled from the inflicted scalpel wound. Then she realised something: the lights no longer flashed, instead illuminating the room again. Instinctively she looked down at her crotch to inspect the damage done. Her eyes widened significantly.

Her genitals were perfectly intact without any blood, damage or sign of pain. Was what she experienced merely a hallucination? Or was she dreaming now only to wake up and realise it happened after all?

What she did know was that she was both exhausted and emotionally drained. Far too much as it was.

Just as she looked back in the direction of the Weavile, she heard his cold, menacing chuckle just as the lights shut off two by two again. In total darkness, she noted his glowing eyes glaring right at her.

"What's the matter, dear? You afraid of the dark?" His hoarse voice mocked again. Clear knew trying to be defiant would be betrayed by her own whimpering breaths. Instead, she allowed the Weavile to say what he wanted. The chainsaw's grunts were enough to keep her truly unsettled anyway.

To further compel her misery, the same chilling wind that passed through earlier did so again, only in reverse. It oddly caused all the candles around the room to light up again one by one. Clear frowned slightly. To her, that was an element of the supernatural. Nonetheless, the Weavile drew her attention back to him again.

"OK, Clear. I've been lenient so far. Now is the time to get fucking rough. You see, I never cut you up with the chainsaw earlier. Now though...now I fucking will."

His words bestowed panic in her yet again. Despite being adamant about being ready to meet death, she really wasn't. She had far too much to lose and not enough to gain. With her hasty breathing being music to her ears, he revved the chainsaw up once more. His glowing eyes made sure she saw the rotating teeth of the weapon could clearly be seen. Clear whimpered terribly as he neared. The chainsaw thrust forth right at her with malicious intent.

If she was lucky, she would be sellable meat in a butcher's shop in the near future. She waited for the chainsaw's deathly touch that would wilt her life away like the many candles around her.

The Weavile then thrust the chainsaw forth at her again dangerously. The last sounds she remembered hearing was the roar of the chainsaw coupled with her terrified screams...


End file.
